


'til the clocks go forward again

by kay_emm_gee



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Future Fic, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 10:43:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14134422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: “They each settled into their own space on the floor, but Clarke made sure she was just a little bit closer to Bellamy than the rest. Time travel was one of their crazier experiences, but they were together. That was all that mattered. He mattered to her, unquestionably.”





	'til the clocks go forward again

**Author's Note:**

> Thank @hawthornewhisperer for her crazy dream of what the s6 plot twist would be because that is why this fic exists :D
> 
> Title from James Bay's song 'Clocks Go Forward'.

“Once we do this,” Raven yelled over the sound of gunfire, “we can’t go back.”

Clarke looked to Bellamy, who despite keeping his gun trained on the door, looked to her as well. Eden was gone. The dying Eligius leader had set it ablaze, a last vindictive strike against the enemy. Skaikru had won the battle but lost the war.

Now pinned down by the few remaining Eligius members set on revenge, this next move they were considering was unbelievable. Unbelievable, but also the only way to help their people survive. Bellamy seemed to know that too, as he gave Clarke a reluctant nod of approval.

She grimaced in return and said, “Raven, do it.”

The sounds around her seemed to dull as she watched Raven fit the last wires into place on the device. Someone was yelling, the enemy was still shooting. Then a sharp tug at her arm moved her across the room.

 _Monty_. He clutched her wrist so tightly, a wild look in his eyes. Raven’s hand was on his forearm, sliding up and down as she moved to get the device ready.

“Almost, almost!” She shouted in warning.

A shock went through Clarke as she realized that Bellamy was still by the door. Still guarding, still on the front line. He didn’t turn immediately when she shouted his name the first time, but the second time--the more desperate time--he backed up towards her. His aim never wavered even as he took one hand off the gun and reached for hers. She found it--dirty, rough, warm--and locked her fingers in.

With a loud blast, the door flung open.

Bellamy shot, Raven pulled the lever, and Clarke closed her eyes, letting the past-- _past choices, past mistakes_ \--suck her in.

 

* * *

 

Clarke blinked and realized they were on the Ark. Her breaths still came in short, uneven gasps. The rest of the group also found it hard to catch their breath. As she tried not to vomit, she heard Bellamy cough.

Then, Monty asked, “So what exactly did you mean earlier when you said we can’t go back?”

“Well, I guess technically we can’t go  _forward.”_  Raven leaned on her knees, massaging her leg. After a few breaths, she continued, “Just traveling backwards itself might have affected the timeline. Not too greatly, apparently, ‘cause we’re all still here, but as of now, we don’t actually know  _when_  the future is, or even if it’s the same future we came from. It might be the same, it might not. It’d be a death wish to try and travel ahead of the time we’re in now. Best case, we end up in the middle of Praimfaya, for example. Worst case, we’re lost in a black hole for eternity.”

“So we’re stuck here?” Bellamy said, glancing at the other three tiredly.

“Unless we fix what we came to. Or we could travel farther back.” She waved the little lever device in her hand half-heartedly.

“Let’s figure out when we are,” Clarke emphasized, “before we start thinking about doing that again.”

“I like that plan,” Monty panted.

After another few minutes of recovery, they left the empty corridor. It didn’t take long to figure out they were in Mecha, a fact which Raven was very grateful for. She sighed in relief as she found them one of her secret rooms.

“I needed someplace to hide when my mother was having an episode and when Finn wasn’t home,” she explained as they slipped inside.

“And how do you know it isn’t in use now?” Clarke asked.

“Because it was dustier than this when I found it ten years ago.” She paused. “Well, ten years ago from--”

“Don’t,” Bellamy interrupted. “We’ll be avoiding enough headaches as it is. I’m not interested in adding the semantics of time travel on top of that.”

And so for the following few hours, they talked of nothing but how to stop the bleak future that they had come from from happening.

Bellamy was in favor of somehow forcing the stations to evacuate to the ground. Raven vetoed that until they knew exactly how far back they had traveled, as the Arkers might not be resistant enough to the radiation yet. Monty advocated for fixing the oxygen problem up on the Ark so they never had to go back down, but Clarke reminded him they would have to do that virtually unseen and with minimal resources, which was highly improbable.

The longer they considered the situation, the more frustrated Clarke felt.

“Hey.”

She turned. Bellamy rested a hand on her back soothingly.

“This was one of our stupider ideas,” she muttered.

“No shit.”

She smiled faintly for a beat. They didn’t speak for a minute, listening to Monty and Raven debate about who was going to go scouting to determine when on the Ark they were. Finally, she sighed and said, “We can’t go back. I mean, forward. Forward?”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Back or forward, it’s no different than any other time. We made our decision, now we have to live with it.”

“So what do we do next, really?”

“Sleep, for now.”

“That sounds fantastic.”

He squeezed her arm before leaving her side to tell Monty and Raven to put their debate on pause. They didn’t take much convincing, and soon enough, the four of them were pulling forgotten, worn blankets out of the closet.

They each settled into their own space on the floor, but Clarke made sure she was just a little bit closer to Bellamy than the rest. Time travel was one of their crazier experiences, but they were together. That was all that mattered.  _He_ mattered to her, unquestionably.

What she did start to question was how much it mattered to her that they were something more now. A kiss amid imminent battle and potential demise meant something, but what, she could not settle on. So instead of spinning out all the possibilities of that kiss, and why they hadn’t talked about it, Clarke just closed her eyes and fell asleep listening to him breathe.

 

* * *

 

Three more days of debate, and two instances of Monty almost getting caught while scouting, and finally Clarke voiced the undeniable conclusion.

“We can’t change anything from here.”

Monty looked up from the schematics on the floor. “Here, this room? Or--”

“Here, as in now. This time,” Clarke explained. “To reset the future, we need to be part of the Ark, and they minute we try that, we’ll get arrested, possibly floated. We’ll just be strangers taking up oxygen to them.”

“We’ll be strangers to anyone in the past,” Raven argued.

“If we’re strangers they won’t execute on sight, that’d be an improvement,” Bellamy added.

“But that means traveling further back.”

Clarke rested her hand on Monty’s shoulder. “Yes, it does.”

A beat, and then Raven stood. “I guess I know what my job is now.”

“As long as we’re agreed?” Clarke clarified.

They looked at Bellamy. He gave one nod, then scrubbed his face with his hand. “Let us know what you need help with Raven.”

“I need Monty. You guys...you just get to wait.”

“Wonderful,” he muttered reluctantly.

An hour later, when Clarke was just finishing etching a small woodland scene into the wall with a discarded nail, Bellamy sat down next to her.

“I thought I was done missing Octavia.”

She looked over to see him with his head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed.

“It’s a bitch how time away doesn’t make being apart again any easier, isn’t it?” she replied. Immediately she wanted to take the words back. The two of them had been separated just as often, and Clarke had missed him so desperately. They never spoke about it though, and not just because they rarely had time between saving their friends and keeping each other alive. It was an opening she wasn’t sure she was ready to give him. Quickly, she added, “You’ll see her again, and I’ll see Madi. We’ll fix this, just like we always do.”

“What if I don’t have a little sister in the new future? What if I have one, but it’s not her?”

“You can’t think about it like that,” Clarke said softly, shifting to sit next to him. “You find the important people again and again, no matter the circumstances.”

“But what if--”

“We can’t do anything about what ifs.”

He let out a frustrated breath.

“Fine. If you want the bleak outlook, you will definitely lose her if we don’t change anything. The future stays the same, and we don’t survive on the ground after all. But you only  _might_  lose her if we change the future. Besides, if anybody was going to find each other again, it would be you two. You’re both too stubborn for the universe to thwart.”

His eyes opened at that, and he stared right at her. Clarke wanted to pull her gaze away, to not see the unspoken thoughts reflected in his stare. She couldn’t though. He was speaking loudly and clearly without saying anything at all, just by looking at her.

Just as he turned his hand in hers and squeezed, Raven’s interrupted. “I lied.”

Startling, Clarke looked over to see her waving at them from across the room without looking. “I do need your help.”

Clarke scrambled up, and Bellamy was only a step behind. Figuring out what came next, together, just like always.

And, also just like always, they would have to wait--for a break, for peace--to figure out what came next for the two of them _._

 

* * *

 

“I’m just saying, that if we had the time, I would like to drive a race car,” Monty said as they walked down the busy DC street.

“Technically, we have all the time we want, thanks to me,” Raven quipped.

Bellamy grimaced. “What did I say about time jokes?”

“That you’d kick whosever ass who made another one. So, bring it on,” Raven challenged.

“Guys, we’re here,” Clarke interrupted as she stopped dead outside the office building to their left.

“This is where Becca works?” Monty verified.

Clarke nodded, and they all halted, staring apprehensively ahead in silence. It hadn’t taken much time when they were on the Ark to decide to go back to Becca’s time. The world had ended the first time because of ALIE, and while Becca had figured out too late how to make a safer version, she still  _had_  figured it out. If they could convince her of ALIE 1.0’s flaws beforehand and get her to either not make ALIE at all or put in the safeguards from the start, then maybe,  _maybe_  they had a chance at changing the timeline for better.

As traffic continued to rush on behind them. Bellamy finally stepped forward. “It’s now or never. Let’s go.”

They followed him inside, past security with the passes Raven had forged. Clarke had wanted to go on her own in case she got caught, then the entire mission wouldn’t be lost. The others had disagreed, strongly.

_“If we go down, we go down together,” Monty had argued._

_“Strength in numbers,” Bellamy had pointed out. “Four of the same stories is harder to disbelieve than one, even a story as crazy as ours.”_

_“And I know the most about ALIE, and Becca, for that matter. I had her goddamn AI in my brain and hallucinated conversations with her. I have to go.”_

Clarke hadn’t been able to keep up her argument for long, so here they were, riding a glass elevator up to Becca’s office. The bell dinged, the doors opened, and Monty muttered under this breath, “Well, here goes nothing.”

 

* * *

 

“We should’ve listened to Raven,” Bellamy muttered.

Clarke looked up from sketching. “I mean, that’s a given. But what didn’t we listen to this time?”

“Staying at the hotel.”

“Would you be any less frustrated not being able to help fix ALIE at the hotel than you are here?”

He pursed his lips. “No.”

She shrugged. Waiting while other people did their part was the hardest part of saving the world, but she was at least somewhat used to it by now. Bellamy, however, was probably never going to adjust. It just wasn’t him, and it was what made him Bellamy. Time hadn’t changed that at all.

He had been fidgeting in his seat for over an hour now. Nothing distracted him, not talking with her or playing with Becca’s phone. The only time he seemed to settled was when Monty walked over to give them updates.

“I’ll play hangman with you,” she offered in a amused tone. When he just glared at her, she continued. “I Spy? Tic tac toe?”

Bellamy dropped his head onto the table and wrapped his arms around it, groaning. Clarke laughed quietly and then went back to sketching. Every few minutes, she’d glance up to make sure Bellamy was still at their table. The last thing Raven, Monty, and Becca needed was him interrupting their work, as good as his intentions to help might be.

It had taken less time than expected to convince Becca of their origins and objective, but more time than expected to convince her to put limitations on her AI. Not developing ALIE at all wasn’t an option that Becca had been willing to consider, partly because it was her passion project and partly because she already had funding and a prototype. So, safeguards were the next viable option. Even then, Becca had been very reluctant to accept their claims. She had argued that based on her plans, the AI wouldn’t be advanced enough to execute that catastrophic of an outcome.

It was only after Raven had convinced Becca to run simulations, and helped her do it, that she finally began to see where, without their caution, she might have gone so very wrong. Now it was simply a race to overhaul the program before her next deadline. Becca warned them that the institution funding her cared about results foremost, that they’d push forward with the technology despite her cautions, unless she kept up with their already established deadlines.

 Which was why the five of them had been practically living at Becca’s lab for the past month. Occasionally Raven would order Clarke and Bellamy home when they started to hover too much. Most times they listened, but tonight, Bellamy had wanted to stay, and so Clarke had as well to keep him company.

She glanced up again. His shoulders were more relaxed, and she swore she heard faint snoring. Shaking her head in amusement, she stood and walked over to him.

“Bellamy, let’s go back.”

She had to shake him awake, and he didn’t argue with her when she repeated her suggestion. Monty waved to them as they walked out, but Raven and Becca were too busy working to notice.

It was late, but the DC streets weren’t deserted yet. The city hummed along, soft but still very much alive. Bellamy seemed to be letting Clarke lead, so she took the long way back to the hotel. As they walked in view of the monuments, he sighed. “I can’t imagine seeing this would ever get old.”

“We thought that about seeing trees, feeling rain. It got old, fast.”

He rolled his eyes, and she laughed.

“You know what I mean,” he said. “Besides, we hopefully won’t be seeing it for too much longer, if we’re lucky.”

Quiet fell, the implications of his words falling like a heavy curtain between them. Her hand twitched, as if reaching for him without thought. He was right there, but the suddenness and gravity of his silence, and the way he stared straight ahead and not at her, made him feel a million miles away.

“We’ve not been too lucky so far,” she replied quietly.

“Then I suppose we’re owed this one.”

That was when he finally looked at her, and she gave him a bittersweet smile. Then she felt his hand slide into hers, slowly but without hesitation.

She intertwined their fingers, tugging him along as she started walking again.

Neither of them let go until they were back in the room, and even then, they didn’t separate. Bellamy laid down next to Clarke, instead of on the other bed, and pulled her into his arms. He fell asleep almost immediately, and she followed right behind.

But first, she whispered a promise into his warmth.

_We will meet again, whatever our luck may be._

 

* * *

 

Another month passed in fits and starts. Anger and frustration ran high initially, sparking several fights, but by now they all were simply determined to fishing their mission. Becca, most of all, surprisingly. The time had only continued to convince her of the importance of their task.

“We’re close,” Becca said in a rough voice when Bellamy and Clarke came in one morning. “I can’t tell you when exactly, but we’re close.”

Raven nodded in agreement, and Monty snored from the corner. A few minutes later, he woke up, stumbling towards them.

“We’re close,” he said, yawning. “Did they tell you?”

Clarke and Bellamy looked at each other. She said, “Go home, Monty. You need sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when we’ve done this thing.”

Bellamy shook his head and walked over to what had become their table. Clarke gave Monty a knowing look but followed, settling in for another long day of feeling useless.

For the next few weeks, Clarke and Bellamy didn’t leave the lab. If their friends were working around the clock, the least they could do was stay for moral support. The days began to blend together, until one afternoon, the air changed.

Becca was suddenly talking a mile a minute, Raven wasn’t talking at all, and Monty was somewhere in between depending on who he was working with. Clarke watched with apprehensive helplessness. Something had changed. Something was different.

“We’re close,” Monty called over eventually. It was what he had said before, but this time...this time it was not a statement, but a warning.

Her heart thrummed in her chest, and her cheeks suddenly flushed with heat. She looked to Bellamy to see him frozen in his seat, looking as overwhelmed as she felt. Clarke blinked, and then he was moving, pulling her up and to  the side. He drew close, hands hovering as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

“What’s wrong?” She asked hurriedly.

“Clarke, I….I need to--” He broke off, helpless.

She shook her head, realizing what he meant to do, to say. “Bellamy, it’s alright, you don’t--”

His jaw clenched, and he cut her off. “I do need to. You’re going to let me say it this time. All of it. Last time, I spent six years wishing I had told you everything, thinking I never would be able to tell you. I’m not going to make that mistake again.”

Clarke looked up at him, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. He stared at her as if they were the only two in the room. She waited, but despite his declaration, he stayed silent.  All she heard was Raven and Becca typing in the background, and Monty calling out help whenever he could. Bellamy swallowed, eyes flashing with frustration that he couldn’t find the words.

“I know,” she finally whispered, edging closer. “I know.”

Then she stepped into him, and his arms went around her. Tightly, he held her, just like he always had when they were on the brink of something new, something devastating.

“We should’ve had time,” he murmured into the crook of her neck. “Damn it, I wanted it all with you. Decades, not months. I just wanted  _time_  with you.”

 _It’s not fair_ , she thought as she curled her fingers into his tattered blue shirt.  _It’s not fair that I don’t get to live this life with you._

_I love you._

As if he heard her, Bellamy pulled back and cupped her face with one hand. Exhaling slowly, he pressed his forehead against hers.

_I love you, too._

Then his mouth dropped against hers, kissing her softly, fully. He knew, and so did she. She knew the unfairness and the fatedness of it all, how the universe always seemed to pull them apart just as they had found one another again. So when they broke apart, she just rested her head on his chest and listened to him breathe, feeling his heartbeat under her palm and begging the heavens to let her keep the promise she had made in the dark.

Raven shouted, and they jerked apart. Clarke turned, seeing Monty with his hands up in the air. Becca was frozen at her desk and staring at the screen in disbelief.

“We did it!” Raven cried again. She spun in her chair to face the two of them, grinning with tears in her eyes. She whispered, “We did it.”

Clarke felt Bellamy’s hand tense on her back. They had fixed ALIE. The bombs would never drop. The Ark would never be created, or fall to earth. Praimfaya would never happen.

They had done it. They had saved so many lives, so many futures, all four of them, together.

The sight of Monty whooping and jumping began to go blurry. Clarke wiped her eyes, but they came away dry. She wasn’t crying, but her vision continued to waver, then quickly starting to go dark. Panicking, she reached for Bellamy, started to say his name.

She blinked, and--

* * *

 

Becca looked around her lab, now empty. The air hung heavy with silence where moments before it had been full of emotion and loud voices.

Wherever the travellers had gone--back to their time, or returned to stardust--she wished them well.

 

* * *

* * *

 

_October 2149 -- Boston, MA_

Over the hum of the espresso machine, bells chimed noisily as the coffeeshop door opened. Immediately a brisk fall breeze swept through the room. As Clarke wiped down one of the small, wooden table, the hair falling from her bun tickled her cheeks. She pushed it aside with the back of her hand, then continued cleaning. When she noticed a few leaves skittering across the floor, she turned.

The door was still open, a guy dressed in fatigues and a girl with dark hair embracing right in the threshold. Sighing, Clarke headed their way, tossing her damp cleaning rag at Wells behind the counter as she passed. He made a small noise of disgruntlement as it hit his shoulder. She just stuck out her tongue in teasing response.

The pair blocking the doorway--and letting all the cold air in--was still hugging when she walked up. They were both laughing, and at least one of them was crying, and Clarke felt a little bad interrupting what seemed to be a big moment. The customers would no doubt start complaining about the chill soon, though, and she needed all the tips she could get if she wanted to go to RISD next year.

“Excuse me,” she said to the pair in the doorway. They didn’t hear her, so she tried again. “Excuse me?”

Finally, they broke apart, the guy looking at her first. The warmth of his smile and the way his messy dark curls fell over his forehead made her pulse stutter. So focused on the joy he exuded, she had a hard time finding her next words.

“If you could just move inside to keep the cold out, that’d be great,” she finally managed.

“Sorry,” the girl said with a bright, unapologetic laugh. “I haven’t seen my brother in a year! I got carried away.”

“What else is new,” the boy, her brother, teased.

The girl punched his arm, and he just pushed her inside with another grin in response. Clarke had to hop out of the way as the girl bowled forward, towing the brother to her table. As the door slammed shut and blocked out the street noise, the cafe chatter rose up and over the guy’s comment about how grown up his sister looked. That earned him another teasing punch, which sparked a laugh from him. Clarke watched them for another few moments, unable to look away for whatever reason, until her senses came back to her. Shaking her head, she retreated behind the register with slightly warm cheeks.

“You can only call dibs on one,” Wells murmured teasingly as he prepped someone’s order to her left. “Lincoln called the other.”

Clarke laughed. “Like I’d have a shot with either of them compared to him. He’s always the favorite to flirt with.”

“I’m not so sure this time, at least with the guy. He’s looked over at you twice already.”

“Flatterer.”

“You think I’m lying?”

“Yes.”

“Then look up.”

She did, to find the guy almost right in front of her. Her pulse jumped again as he smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and warm.

“Hi.” She paused, then remembered. “Oh. What can I get for you today?”

“One coffee, black, and an americano, triple shot.”

“Sure thing. Name for the order?”

“Bellamy.” Then he spelled it for her with a polite, practiced patience.

As she wrote it on a slip to go with the cups for his order, asking, “Anyone ever get it right on the first try?”

“Nope.” He laughed.

“No one gets mine either.”

“And yours is?”

Wells muttered something that sounded far too much like  _smooth_ , and she had to resist the urge to kick him. “It’s Clarke, an ‘e’ at the end.”

“Good to know if I ever take your order.” His smile turned from friendly to charming, and she laughed as he tipped his head as a goodbye before turning back to his table.

Unsurprisingly, Clarke was distracted for the rest of her shift, even after the siblings left. She hummed absently while cleaning dishes, and even twirled a bit while sweeping after closing.

Wells noticed of course, but he waited to ask about it until they stepped outside to lock up. “So, did you get his number?”

“No,” she said as she pocketed the key.

“That’s a bummer. There was...something there. Right?”

She smiled, pulling her coat closer as the wind picked up. “There was.”

He frowned. “But you don’t have his number.”

“I don’t.” Clarke shrugged, looped her arm through Wells’, and started walking with him into the fall evening. “But I’m not worried. I just...have this feeling, you know, that we’ll meet again soon.”


End file.
